


a Day Like This

by livebynight



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, NSFW, Oral Sex, Romantic Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 03:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12423999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livebynight/pseuds/livebynight
Summary: A one shot that takes place many months from the current point in Keep Your Silence...Ivar and Lisbet get away for a weekend alone on a camping trip.





	a Day Like This

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Keep Your Silence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732503) by [livebynight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/livebynight/pseuds/livebynight). 



> Have some fluff! Hope you enjoy :)

“I would have never pictured you this high maintenance, Lisbet,” Ivar drawled. She stood not far from his seat in front of the hearth, wasting about half a bottle of bug spray on her bare legs.

“I am _not_ high maintenance,” she argued. “I’m just… it’s been a while since I’ve been out in the woods, in the middle of nowhere.”

Ivar huffed for the umpteenth time since leaving the city. “If you did not want to come -”

“I didn’t _say_ that -”

“Far be it from me to have believed there are worse things than spending a weekend alone with me.”

Lisbet found herself grinning, able to tell Ivar was only teasing. With a resounding thud, she set the spray can down on the picnic table and moseyed over to his spot on the ground. For a moment, she watched him break apart bits of wood to get the fire started. There were three bags of logs next to the hearth, and a growing pile of kindling beside his legs. His task appeared effortlessly done, he didn’t even flinch when splinters broke off in his face and made a mess of his sweatpants.

She _loved_ the sweatpants; admired the way they would dangle on his hips, always giving her a private show of a sliver of skin. She let herself ogle, even enjoying the plain black, long-sleeved T-shirt he opted to wear. It wasn’t as snug on him as she’d prefer, but it made his shoulders look positively hulking.

Ivar stilled as he sensed Lisbet near, arching an inquisitive brow halfway over his shoulder. He felt a slight chill when she ran her fingers through his hair. Tossed the long locks over his head so she could hunch down and kiss the shaved section of his scalp.

“I’ll pitch the tent,” she murmured.

He had half a mind to keep her there with him… But it _was_ already starting to get dark; the drive had taken longer than anticipated. It would be getting cooler soon, too. Best to get the tent up and fire started now rather than later.

She missed his small smile as she retreated to unload the car.

It’d been years since she’d gone camping. Certainly not since childhood. Twice a year, it was Ivar and Ragnar’s tradition to come camping at this same location. For as long as Ivar could remember, when Ragnar had leave from work, he would take Ivar into the woods for a whole weekend. The other brothers rarely joined, didn’t have a knack for it the way Ivar and his father did. So, inevitably, it’d been a while for him, too…

And yes, maybe her inexperience had made her seem reluctant, but in all actuality, Lisbet had been looking forward to their getaway since Ivar had told her he’d planned it two weeks ago. She and him hardly ever had alone time, and when they did, it was for no more than a few hours at a time. Now they had _three whole nights_ away… She was still impressed he’d managed to pull it off.

They were a four-hour drive from home, and cellphone service had petered out about thirty minutes south of here – their campsite. A spacious section surrounded by tall and dense trees, well secluded from any other campers.

Lisbet read the instructions for the tent for about ten minutes. She’d never set one of those up, either.

“Need some help?” Ivar asked, already comfortably sat in a chair while he smoked a cigarette. The fire peaked in front of him.

“ _No_ ,” she said stubbornly, then ignored his raspy chuckle.

It wasn’t all that complicated, though it did take an additional twenty minutes for it to be fully propped up.

She busied herself with unloading the car next. Leaving the cooking supplies and cooler in the trunk, she retrieved their backpacks and blew up the queen-sized air mattress. The tent was spacious enough for six cots, so it fit comfortably inside with their belongings, and two lanterns. Turned out that the Lothbrok Estate had been filled with a surprising amount of camping supplies.

“Unpacking already?” Ivar called over. He watched her move back and forth from the car to the tent, this time with their blankets and pillows.

“Don’t want to be bothered by it when I’m drunk later!” She sang back.

Ivar hummed at that, peered over to find Lisbet halfway through the entrance of the tent, backside straight up in the air as she crouched over. He licked his lips before speaking.

“What did you bring, hm?”

“One second -” she grunted, giving the mattress one last adjustment.

The setup inside actually looked somewhat romantic, she thought. The fluffy throw blankets and the Down pillows certainly had something to do with it… But with the way the sun was setting just then, there was a warm, orange glow cast in the confined space. Just for them.

She practically skipped back to Ivar when she was all done, only coming to a halt when he reached out to brace her thigh.

“Tequila,” she told him.

“ _Bad_ girl,” he berated, petting her skin. His calloused palm was a soothing roughness, back and forth as it went before slipping between her thighs. “You mean for me to take advantage of you?”

Lisbet’s face suddenly felt hot. She kept her eyes on him, staying still. Waiting for him to instruct what she would do next. His seamless transition hardly even showed on his calm face, his own eyes dancing as they traveled greedily over her body.

“I must say, Lisbet,” he remarked. “You know I like you all dressed up, but this outdoorsy look is… doing something for me.”

Her blush only deepened. She’d been wearing denim shorts with a pair of hiking boots. A cozy, red flannel covered her torso, and her ponytail was high on the crown of her head. Her hair swung across her shoulders, tendrils curling at the humid breeze.

Ivar took a drag from his cigarette and let the smoke plume from his nostrils as he looked up at her. He gauged every minute twitch in her expression, feeling her skin grow warmer and warmer as his hand ascended till his fingers slid beneath her shorts. He could tell it was hard for her not to move, there was even a swell of pride in his chest that she would stay still so dutifully.

He licked his lips again in consideration. And when his fingertips reached the lining of her panties, Lisbet almost tripped to keep herself from taking a step closer to him.

Ivar’s smile was ferocious, bright blue eyes filled with mischief. All too quickly, he withdrew his hand, gave her a consolatory rub over her hip.

“Go fetch dinner,” he said softly. “I do not want you drinking on an empty stomach.”

 

Once they were both left satiated, they lay together on the ground over a thick blanket. The fire crackled pleasantly just beyond their feet.

Ivar stifled a belch as Lisbet snuggled into his side, feeling even more affectionate toward him now after his skillful display of cooking skills. Not even in a real kitchen and still, Ivar could cook a flawless filet over the hot fire. She had watched him concentrate, sat just in front of the warm stone of the earth as he smoothly shifted the pan over the flames to keep consistent temperatures. Only used salt and pepper for flavoring.

She’d eagerly brought him a Guinness, which he gratefully accepted. It took much self-restraint not to pounce on him once he cracked open the can and took a healthy swig. Ivar’s lips shone with the dark stout, only to be swiped away by his wet tongue.

Now, he felt comfortable and cozy, even though it’d gotten considerably cooler since the sun had set, casting them in darkness save for firelight.

Lisbet had even put on a pair of sweatpants, much to Ivar’s chagrin, but his whining came to an end once she wrapped herself around him. Instead, he leisurely smoked a joint while she nursed a cup of straight tequila, chilled with some crushed ice and a small wedge of lime.

Content. That was what she felt. Never before had they experienced such anticlimactic normalcy. For once, it was actually easy to forget their tumultuous lives.

“Does this make you think of Ragnar?” Lisbet asked curiously. “Being out here?”

Ivar didn’t speak much of Ragnar, but she knew that their bond was significantly strong, regardless of the amount of time they actually got to spend together. She’d found the few pictures Ivar kept hidden for himself. Pictures of _only_ him and his father, and often at camping trips such as this.

“Yes, it does,” he said quietly, eyes reflecting the sky. He draped his arm over her back and pulled her flush against him. Between her body – the way she ran her small hand over his chest – and the high that was encroaching on him, Ivar felt positively relaxed. More so than he’d been since – well, he couldn’t remember when…

It was almost too much to think on, how perfect it was to be secluded with Lisbet. No one to bother them, not even cell service to be reached by anyone else. It was just her and the stars.

“He would be pointing out constellations right now,” Ivar continued at the thought of it. “He could navigate boats by the stars alone… He would tell me the Old Tales of the Gods in the sky.”

Lisbet propped her head up on her hand to peer down at him. “Tell me something.”

Ivar craned his neck to give her a skeptical look. “You want to hear that?”

The context didn’t necessarily matter to her, even if she did hold some interest in the ways of Old Norse. Really, what she wanted was to learn that much more about Ivar – Ragnar, too. It would make her feel all the closer to him. Something she would never deny… Listening to Ivar’s voice as he taught her something new was simply a bonus.

“All right,” he intoned, looking past her and at the stars again. She followed his finger as he pointed up at the sky, bringing her attention to the glinting mass above. “See the Big Dipper?”

The formation of stars was clear to see in the cloudless night sky, all the brighter from the lack of light pollution. “That is most known for being called _Karlsvogn_. It may have been considered Odin’s Chariot, though he most notably rode an eight-legged steed by the name of _Sleipnir_.” He paused to think on it, as if he still considered its true meaning, and Lisbet smiled, closely watching his face. “Sleipnir could transport him back and forth across the _Bifröst_ … Rode him over Yggdrasil to collect ancient runes… _So_ , others believe it to be _Hellewagon_ – the wagon of the dead.”

Ivar pulled from his joint as he ran an absentminded hand over Lisbet’s back. Half of these words were unfamiliar to her, only having heard bits and pieces like these during rare Lothbrok family occasions. But she was still content to listen; reveled in the look in Ivar’s gleaming eyes.

“Odin can visit the land of the dead, called _Helheim_ \- there and back, and still be unscathed. It is said perhaps it was with the Hellewagon that he transported them.”

“I thought the dead went to Valhalla?” Lisbet asked, voice echoing in her plastic cup as she took another sip of her drink.

Ivar smirked at her, glad to know he was at least holding her interest. “Valhalla is a place favored by Vikings who would die in combat,” he explained. “Those who died honorably were handpicked by the _Alföðr_ to be delivered to Valhalla by their Valkyries… And there they could drink with the Gods… Tell stories of their victory.”

Lisbet quirked her lips in thought. “Did Ragnar believe in all this?”

An uneasy swell formed in Ivar’s stomach. He tilted his head at her, expression unclear. “Sometimes… Not so much near the end.” He cleared his throat, starting to frown now. Lisbet noticed right away, and set her drink down on the ground to nestle her fingers into his hair. “He fought with his faith more and more as he grew older. Apparently, there was a lot they disagreed on.”

“He must’ve had quite the religious upbringing,” Lisbet mused. They never had an in-depth discussion on the subject.

“We all did,” he confirmed. “It was… Not easy for him to doubt such a thing.”

“And what about you?” She asked, playing with strands of his hair. “With all that beautiful ink on your back?”

Ivar’s laughter was bitter, quickly muffled by a heavy swallow. “My relationship with the Gods is complicated.”

It was momentarily quiet before Lisbet pressed him. Gone were the days she tip-toed around getting him to open up. They’d since been through too much together. “Tell me.”

He heaved a sigh before taking one last hit of his joint and setting it aside.

“I have always been fond of the Old Tales… Mother would tuck us in with them when we were children, and Father would keep them alive out here, in the woods… But that has not ever comforted me when -” He stopped short, heart beginning to race. And not in the elating way that his high had been causing. It was no help that Lisbet refused to let him look away. He couldn’t escape her gaze; there was nowhere for him to hide.

“When _what_?” She prodded.

Ivar heaved a sigh before sucking his teeth. He took hold of her waist in both hands, seeking distraction in the feel of her. “I am sure it would come as no surprise to you that I have often thought myself cursed.”

Lisbet’s eyes filled with concern, and part of him hated it. He had to fight his instinct to push her away, to read her expression as one of pity, and not true care for him. His _own_ self-pity made it all the more difficult.

He spoke again, to keep her from saying something sappy.

“It has made it hard for me to have faith in anything.”

For a moment, the only noises surrounding them was the fire singeing and popping, and the breeze passing through the darkened woods. A few snaps of branches, and the chirping of nighttime creatures.

“And now?” Lisbet pondered, running a soothing hand over Ivar’s cheek. Her eyes roamed over his features, his glossy eyes, and she couldn’t help but lean down to kiss his pulse point. Nuzzle the tip of her nose against the corner of his jaw, lightly tickling his skin. “Do you still feel cursed?”

Ivar grit his jaw together, already feeling himself start to tremble as she pressed another kiss to his throat. It wasn’t supposed to be this way – it was supposed to be _him_ causing this effect on _her_. His heartrate picked up a notch, and his arms twitched at her sides, itching to tighten around her.

“Tell me, Ivar…” she breathed into his ear. She could feel him grant a small shake of his head, but it wasn’t acceptable enough to her.

So, she climbed on top of him, setting her knees on either side of him. Ivar watched her as she ran both hands into his hair, locking behind his head so she could press her chest against his. She lowered her head, teasing him with the lightest touch of her lips.

“I don’t believe someone so cursed could make me feel this way,” she told him before applying pressure on his mouth. He whimpered at the weight of it, then found the strength to grab her, hold her down so he could kiss her back. He turned her soft touches into something more heated, aggressively forcing her mouth open, and greedily sucking her tongue into his mouth. It was slightly cool, tasting of tequila – a welcome contrast to his own cottonmouth.

She was breathless as she tore herself from him, set on proving him wrong no matter how hard he tried to regain some control. She didn’t want Ivar to feel solemn. Not now, not ever. Not when she loved him so much.

“Think you could still do this to me?” She asked, gripping hard on his wrists to tear his hands from her body.

A growl tore through him when she pinned his hands to the ground. He could easily overpower her, turn her over like he so desperately wanted, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it as her mouth found his neck again; sucked, and gently nibbled on his skin.

“Think I’d want you this badly?” She all but moaned against him. Her hot breath gave him chills, yet all he could do was watch her have her way with him. His breathing turned nervous, half-expecting her to stop, to quit praising him, to change her mind at any second.

Instead, she crawled down the length of him. Situated herself over his legs so she could push his shirt up his stomach, and bare his skin to the cool air.

His abs contracted with each strangled intake of breath, and he released the most pathetic whimper when her mouth descended on him once more. Her lips were so warm on his belly; rendered him entirely helpless as his neck craned to look down at her.

“You’re so beautiful, Ivar,” she groaned against his skin, keeping her hands from ever leaving his body. He winced at her admission, clenched his eyes shut as her palms ran up and down his sides until eventually gripping at the waistband of his sweatpants.

He wanted to yell at her, to call her a liar. He wanted to refuse such admissions of affection, to deny it all… But he knew that it would simply make him a hypocrite. He couldn’t deny such actions when everything she said was how he felt about her. His hips raised without any sense of reluctance, only to let out a choked sob when she pulled his pants down. He was almost embarrassed at how hard he was already, cock practically drifting toward her of its own accord when she wrapped a warm palm around it.

Fists clenched into the blanket beneath him at the first feel of her tongue. His back arched from the ground and his mouth fell open.

“Ivar?”

“N-no,” he finally forced himself to say, vigorously shaking his head. “No…” he said again, assuredly this time, feeling the relief of her hand sliding around him. “Not with you, Lis’ -” His voice broke with a gasp, but he couldn’t stop the words now that he felt the weight lifting from his shoulders. “Not ever.”

 

It was Ivar on the receiving end of aftercare once she’d finished him off in her mouth. The fire had died down a little, and even while he sat up in front of the hearth, Lisbet kept her legs tightly bound around him as he poked and prodded at the glowing logs. She knew he wouldn’t admit it, but it was clear to see how shy and vulnerable he felt.

It didn’t deter her from fixing herself another drink. Avoiding gusts of smoke, she cut a slice of lime before plopping it in her cup, still keeping herself wrapped around him.

Then there was a sudden snapping of twigs in the distance, a bristling of brush that made her sit up straight and clench her knees into Ivar’s sides. Her drink stayed clutched to her chest, as if it would keep her safe.

“What was _that_?”

Ivar rolled his eyes, rotating one of the logs in the hearth to stoke the fire. “A predator lurking its hunt. We are to be its meal, I am certain of it...”

“ _Ivar_.”

He laughed, swatting her knee when she tried to nudge him with it.

“There’s nothing really out here, right?” She dared to ask. Her eyes were wide as she stared blindly into the darkness, draping a cautious arm over his shoulder. The tall trees appeared suddenly ominous. “That could… harm us, I mean.”

“If there is, I will be sure to shoot it,” Ivar retorted confidently. He prodded the glowing logs with a long stick, stirred up the hearth enough to get the flames high once again. When he was satisfied, he relaxed into her chest, propping himself up with one hand, and lit a cigarette with the other.

It was Lisbet’s turn to roll her eyes, keeping still to brace his weight. “Shoot it with what, exactly?”

“My gun.”

“You brought a gun on our camping trip.” It was more a statement than a question.

Ivar’s brows furrowed. “I usually have a gun on me.”

“When you’re _working_.”

He sighed impatiently, turned his head to nip at her jaw. “When whatever creature comes out to kill us, I will be sure to inform it that I am on vacation and _not_ to be bothered.”

Lisbet tuned him out; focused more on the bottle of tequila as she gave her plastic cup a refill. “Uh-huh,” she dismissed. “Sounds good.”

 

 

The next morning, Lisbet woke to the sensation of rocking back and forth. At first, she thought it was the lingering of tequila, tossing around angrily in her brain… Though that wouldn’t have made much sense. She hadn’t drank _that_ much.

Then her bare legs were suddenly exposed to frigid air, and she gasped at the shock of it. Instantly turned to her side to curl into the fetal position.

Strong hands gripped her thighs in attempt to straighten her out, but she shook her head, intent on going back to sleep.

“ _Cold_ ,” she shivered, even though those hands were warm.

“A pity,” Ivar murmured dryly.

Half-asleep, Lisbet nodded in agreement, expecting him to let her roll over and drift off. Her knees bent in order to do just that, when Ivar grabbed her by the calves and lay her flat again.

“What’re you doing, Ivar?” Lisbet yawned, pressing her face into the pillow.

“Trying to have sex with you,” he said decisively, giving her another sure tug so that he could sidle between her legs.

The mattress shifted again with his movement as he took hold of her underwear and started to pull them off. It was only at the sound of them hitting a corner of the tent that Lisbet’s eyes managed to pop open, blearily panning down her body to find Ivar situating her thighs over his shoulders.

“ _Ivar_ …”

His undershirt clung to him, baring his muscles as his arms tightened over her limbs, locking her to him. Languidly, he trailed kisses over her skin, merely strengthening the chills that rocked her body… His mouth was hot compared to that of her flesh. Felt nearly relaxing enough to make her eyelids droop again before he smacked her thigh.

“You are being very disobedient so far, Lis’,” he scolded lightly. But it didn’t keep him from sucking on the plumpest part of her thigh. He growled around his mouthful, voice reverberating against her in such a way that she couldn’t help her pelvis from drifting toward him; Ivar drawing reactions from her had become second nature by now.

“What will you do, _hm_?” She teased, in a dreamlike stupor.

Ivar only saw that as challenge; quickly buried his face into her apex with a suddenness that had Lisbet crying out loud enough to echo through the tent. Her heels ground against his back, and her lower half rose from the bed to meet his demanding mouth.

He immediately sucked her clit between his lips, rapidly flicked his tongue at the bit that was sealed inside his mouth. She hissed at the sudden sensation, the overwhelming pleasure that plundered from her core straight through her stomach until she had to heave a lungful of air.

“ _Ivar, god_ -” Her voice broke off into a pitiful sob, and Ivar growled in turn, squeezing harder around her thighs as his jaw worked at her, suckling on her as if he were dying of thirst. Satisfaction quenched him like a drug. In all his fervor and what little bit he could glance of her from beneath his lids, the only thing that kept him from smiling at her writhing form was that he still hadn’t made her come.  

Ivar had _so much time_ to torture her for acting out and mouthing off. A few more days-worth of time that might as well have been eternity, it meant so much to him.

For now, he drove into her even harder, getting his mouth nestled into her lips as deeply as he possibly could before the front of his teeth clashed with her flesh. He could feel her clenching, thighs tightening around his head. It’d hardly take much longer before she’d be screaming his name – he knew all too well how sensitive she was in the morning.

He let her clit slide wetly from his lips, only to briskly lave at it with the tip of his tongue. Freeing one hand, he spread her legs apart and slid two thick fingers inside of her.

Lisbet’s back arched from the mattress as she sang for him; he fucked into her as if racing for her orgasm, and her loud, desperate pleas were only a countdown for it. Curses spewed from her mouth with each gasp for breath, body rocking each time his fingers pushed inside her in tandem with his tongue curling around her clit.

Her voice reached a high-pitched screech, words unintelligible, body spasming – and Ivar pulled away right before she could find her release.

A sharp throbbing replaced what should’ve been her climax; her eyes rolled and her mouth bobbed open and closed, speechless at the shock.

“What was that you were saying?” Ivar asked smugly, setting her legs aside to crawl up her abdomen. A wicked grin littered his features as he looked down at Lisbet – evidently speechless, pawing pathetically at his chest as she trembled from the denial. He dismissively shoved her hands away, pinning both of them above her head before wrapping them in a vice-like, one-handed grip.

“It is a shame I did not think to bring something to tie you down with,” he husked regrettably. She merely whined beneath him, rolling her hips upward to meet his for some sort of consolation. Ivar could hardly resist chuckling at her. “I could always go outside – get some bungee cord from the trunk.”

“Don’t you dare!” Lisbet snapped. She was wide awake now – positively aching for him. Eschewed the very idea of being parted from him.

“Thought not…” he murmured, pressing his lips to the swell of cleavage that showed just above her camisole. With his spare hand, he tore the fabric down her chest, granting himself leave to clasp his lips around her nipple. He toyed with the hard bead in the same manner he did her clit, and his hand stayed free to roam down her abdomen and over her hip, pivoting her just so, so he could spank her ass.

“ _Please_ , Ivar,” Lisbet begged. Even wished she could find the strength to frown at him. But everything she felt was so fucking good, part of her willfully took the punishment - the dragged out frustration he was intent to cast upon her.

“Tell me, my love,” Ivar groaned against her tit. His thick hair tumbled over her chest, ticklish as his lips smacked on her skin in trek of her other breast.

It was with haste he finally reached for his sweatpants and roughly pushed them down over his hips. His freedom was soon muffled as he burrowed into her warmth, thrusting slowly along her pelvis.

Lisbet sputtered at him. Ivar’s hips rolled over hers with an agonizingly slow pace, sliding easily through her slit until he was slick with her wetness. The frustration was unbearable; if she craned her neck the right way she’d even be able to see the tip of him peeking from between her thighs, but the sight of it would only make things worse. She huffed instead, tossing her head back as her body trembled beneath his, arms quaking and starting to ache, with no reprieve to move while Ivar kept her pinned down.

His mouth stayed glued to her throat with each grind of his hips. “Tell me what you need, Lisbet.”

“Make me come, _please_ , Ivar,” she mumbled incoherently, struggling to match every thrust.

He suddenly grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look up at him when she’d been so preoccupied in rubbing her body into his.

“All right,” Ivar said easily. But then he was grinning, almost frighteningly so. His jaw rolled from side to side as he leaned down to brush the tip of his nose over hers. “But only if you let me fuck you in the ass.”

She practically went limp, groaning. “ _Mean_.”

“When have I said I am nice?” he countered, giving her cheek a light smack.

Even having forgotten the appropriate restraints, Ivar had at least remembered to bring lube. Lisbet had hardly settled on her stomach when he was reaching into a pocket of his backpack to retrieve the small bottle.

He scoffed as he moved back to smother her; the air mattress wasn’t ideal. It rocked back and forth under the weight of their bodies, farted when her knees shifted to brace herself under him. There wasn’t much he could do to prevent from plopping himself onto her backside, smacking his skull on her forehead when the mattress rolled like a wave.

“ _Ow_!”

Lisbet snorted, and neither of them could keep a straight face. The mood was interrupted as they both shook with silent laughter.

“ _Real romantic_ ,” she chided dramatically.

“It was never my strong suit.”

She sobered up when Ivar resumed his intentions. His fingers were slick, a jolting difference as they glided between her cheeks, aiming for the tight hole to prep her for him.

“Gently, Ivar,” she said quietly.

“ _Yes_ ,” he assured, voice already croaking as he watched his fingers play. Lisbet was more used to taking those in there than his cock, had already been made accustom to how pleasurable Ivar could make it for her.

He rested most of his body weight onto his forearm in a way he could keep his hand nestled into the hair at the nape of her neck. She mewled as the first finger slid inside, and he reminded himself to take it slow – the anticipation already getting to him. Lisbet rarely let him have her like this, it wasn’t her preference, and she only granted permission on special occasion. He was just happy she allowed it at all, trusted him with herself in just one more way.

“You are so good to me, Lisbet,” Ivar cooed… He stuck to his word, keeping gentle with his fingers until his soft caress was enough to have her nuzzling into their pillows. A second finger joined the first, and she even arched her back in seek of his hand. Ivar’s eyes nearly rolled from the admission. He tore his gaze from himself to press his lips over her shoulder; purred at the feel of her skin. “The things you let me do to you…”

Lisbet could only whimper. The sensation his eager fingers left her with was oddly erotic – something she never found she could get used to. She could tell how tight she was around him, had to resist to clench even harder. He worked his fingers in and out with a peaceful rhythm.

“I will reward you for this,” he promised breathlessly, removing his fingers for just a second to apply more lube. He was quickly filling her again, and faster this time. The arousal of her faded orgasm was returning in subtle fashion as Ivar ebbed away the overbearing pressure into something much more pleasant. “Will make you feel _so_ good,” he continued, voice having dropped to such a low octave that the mere sound of it made her eyes roll. “ _My good girl_ …”

She felt empty when he withdrew from her, but he didn’t stray far. He stroked around his cock, generously dousing the solid length of him with lube.

“Ivar, please,” Lisbet crooned. She reached out for him. Sighed happily when he spread out on top of her and turned her to face him so he could run his lips over her cheek. She smiled weakly, keeping one hand around the back of his neck while he did the same to her.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, eyes boring into her own as he started to ease the tip of his cock against her tight hole.

He already felt thicker than normal just by comparison. Though with self-restraint, a gust of air puffed from his lungs as he gently prodded into her. He kept his eyes on her face to savor all reactions, and also to be wary if she needed him to stop.

But at her light squeal, he pushed in harder, sinking halfway. “ _Fuck_ , Lisbet,” he grit out, finding himself shuddering at the sensation. His grip slid down his shaft the more he filled her until they were both keening into each other’s faces, and finally, their hips met. Ivar’s groan rumbled loudly through his chest.

Just as slow, he pulled out, then sank back inside more deliberately, only to watch Lisbet twitch with the sudden pressure.

“Feels so fucking good,” he rambled on. “So goddamn _tight_.” He still kept his eyes on her face; watched her perfect lips tremble and part to let out soft cries. He reveled in the pink flush that was starting to bloom through her brown complexion; even brushed her hair back, all to see her face better.

Once he could move in and out with less constriction, his composed control began to ebb away. Ivar kept the pace slow, but the strength of his thrusts steadily increased with a bestial need. He could never last long when he fucked her like this, not when she clenched around him so snugly. There was an insatiable need inside of him to fill Lisbet with his cum, to feel her spasm around him, milking every last drop.

He muttered filthy nothings in her ear as he started to ravage her, winding one arm tightly around her waist to assist his leverage, let him drill her until she was wailing beneath him.

Lisbet’s nails tore into the pillows; she would’ve been thrashing if it wasn’t for his weight on top of her, her body totally at odds with itself. Receiving Ivar’s large cock like this was borderline too painful combined with strangely sensual. She wouldn’t orgasm by this alone, but lucky for her, Ivar shoved his hand between her and the mattress, greedy fingers in search of her clit.

 _She_ nearly headbutted _him_ this time around when the pads of his fingers found her swollen nub. Lisbet still felt so raw and sensitive, only heightened by the feel of Ivar ramming into her like he’d explode at any moment. The noise that came out of her sounded like a dying animal as he rubbed vigorous circles around her clit.

“You like that, huh?” Ivar growled into her ear. But even his voice couldn’t be as calm and collected as usual; it wavered, shaking with each strike of his hips. He could feel his own impending orgasm tingling at the base of his spine, covering his skin with goosebumps though it brewed with fresh sweat. “Like when I fuck you like this?”

A merciless tease as he slid his hand even farther between her legs to penetrate her cunt. Lisbet’s reaction was instant, her stomach coiled in a tightly bound knot, growing tighter and tighter when his thumb picked up where his fingers left off.

She begged louder, arched her back even more so he could sink in deeper and they both froze at the intense pressure.

Ivar instantly spewed inside her, heavily enough that he could quickly feel himself begin to leak out of her. At the same time, Lisbet shoved the pillows off the mattress, raked her nails across it so harshly it might’ve ripped as a shriek tore through her lungs with equal sharpness.

It took a moment for either of them to move again. They both hissed and winced as Ivar gently pulled out, at once making a mess of the sheet beneath them. He rolled off of her with a shout, then reached for his backpack.

“What’re you doin’?” Lisbet asked wearily - body shocked still on the bed.

He didn’t answer, but she could hear him fiddling with something plastic, and soon there was refreshing coolness on her ass from what felt like a wipe.

 _Always fucking prepared_ , she remarked silently. She heaved a contented sigh – even with the soreness that was already replacing her arousal – and relaxed on the mattress as Ivar pressed closely to her side as he cleaned her.

 

 

As their last night descended, Lisbet couldn’t help but feel the least bit of anxiety that fell on her chest. She didn’t feel ready to return to their real lives – was more than happy to blow it off for a few more days.

This relaxation would disappear… This version of Ivar would burrow back inside himself.

It didn’t help that that afternoon had been filled with grey and rain… _Entirely_ too peaceful. All it meant was that they had the excuse to lay in bed together all day. Limbs tangled, with the soothing sound of steady drops resounding on tarp. Lisbet hadn’t tired of gazing into Ivar’s blue eyes, and he was intent to hold her close all day.

It took hours and rumbling stomachs for them to finally think of food.

“I’ll fix us something,” Lisbet had announced, sitting up to reach for her sweats and slicker.

“Let me,” Ivar interjected, rising to do the same.

She stopped him with a hasty hand on his smooth chest, nudged until he laid back down. “ _No_ ,” she insisted. “I want you to stay just like this.”

And for the most part, he did. They scarcely left the tent. Ivar played music on his Bluetooth speaker, and when time wasn’t filled with kissing and heavy petting, Lisbet stretched across his lap and read excerpts aloud from her new book on genealogy.

Of course, now, he could sense something was wrong. It was written plainly on her face as they cuddled together on that stupid air mattress one last time. He ran his knuckles back and forth across her cheek, fucking hating himself that he couldn’t give her more. This woman deserved the world, and the very next day, he’d be dragging her back into the chaos that was his life.

“You’re pouting,” Lisbet said. Her voice stirred him from his thoughts abruptly enough to wipe the expression off of his face.

“I was just thinking the same of you,” he retorted.

She stuck her tongue out at him, curling into him just a little bit more. “What are you on about?”

“I know you do not want to go back.”

“Ivar, that’s not -”

“Of course, it is,” he interrupted. His face was filled with concern as he forced himself to release her from his grasp. “I would not blame you… You should have this -” he gestured between them. “- all the time. Not just when it is… _arranged_. I do not give you enough.”

Lisbet ran her hands over her face. “To think, I’d believed I made a grand enough gesture to keep you from thinking such a thing.”

Ivar couldn’t help but snort. “That is only because Ubbe suggested -”

She cut him off with a quick smack to his chest. “Ivar, so help me if you finish that sentence -”

“You are right,” he said quickly. “I should not have…”

Lisbet wouldn’t let it get to her. Not on their last night. Instead, she sat up and pulled her sweatshirt on. Then leaned over to him to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I could’ve used a few more days of this, is all.”

She teetered as she stood, hunching beneath the roof of the tent before unzipping the front flap.

“Where are you going?”

“There is still wine to drink,” she replied, forcing her feet into her sneakers. “I won’t let it go to waste.”

 

In the morning, the car was quickly packed, and what was left of their romantic getaway were clear, spacious grounds, and dying embers in the stone hearth. Ivar sat on the edge of it, the only dry spot left of their campsite and lit two cigarettes as Lisbet came to join him.

“Thanks for doing dishes, _honey_ ,” she sang mockingly sweet in his ear, made all the worse by smooching him repeatedly over his cheek and neck until he pushed her away with a scowl. Then handed her a cigarette.

“Promise we’ll do this again?” she asked, peering up at him.

Ivar scowled. Turned out he was already transitioning back into his normal self. Stoic attitude and all.

Lisbet rolled her eyes, opted on scrolling through her phone’s gallery instead. But then her brows furrowed – the only pictures she’d managed to take were of the scenery and the private beach they fished at. Not a single picture of the two of them.

Before he could protest, she threw her arm around Ivar’s shoulders and turned the camera on them, smiling brightly as she snapped a picture. Ivar _hated_ getting his picture taken. She only had two other pictures of him – one of which was when he was very stoned.

“Delete that!” Ivar snapped once he realized.

But Lisbet ignored him. Shown in the picture was her four-day-since-last-washed hair, and Ivar looking into the lens at the last second. Mouth puckered and half covered as he took a drag from his cigarette. Even _his_ hair was greasy at that point, but it still fluttered nicely in the wind. A keeper.

 

The smell hit them once the car doors slammed shut. They eyed each other wearily, nostrils curling at the odor. Ivar spoke first.

“Is that… you or me?”


End file.
